Now Tell Me Who I Need To Kill
by The Cold East Wind
Summary: Part 2, Of Lets Never Go Back To Russia. John goes after what's his.


"John I'm sorry. Truly. I should have told, I should have told you and Sherlock all that was going on. I just thought...if you knew...things would get out of control."

"AND YOU FEEL LIKE THINGS ARINT OUT OF CONTROL NOW! Mycroft I swear, I swear if I don't get him back in one piece I am coming for you. Now tell me who I need to kill."

"There's a man, his name is DaVallon, and you killed his lover. Your team, team Silas, captured and killed a group of terrorist in Kabul. DaVallons man was among them. He used the trafficking ring and the offer to buy Sherlock as bate. He he knew that the intrigue would draw him out. He wants to do to you what you did to him. It's that simple."

"But why would he assume Sherlock and I where a couple?"

"John...everyone knows." The line was silent for a moment.

"Then everyone should also know it's a bad fucking idea to take what's mine. Send me everything I need to know."

"You'll get yourself captured John."

"That's the plan."

"You should probably kill me now. Because if you don't and you hurt him, you'll cry for hell when I get my hands on you."

"You know Johnny boy, you're right. No really you are, and I'm certain hell would be far preferable to what you have in mind, but it's a risk I'm willing to take. Because you see if your not there to bear witness to the excruciating touted and death of the man you love, really what's the point? Oh don't look so shocked it's known far and wide that the doctor loves the detective not so sure about the other way round though."

"He's died and come back to life twice for me now so I'd be inclined to say it's a two way street."

"Oh touche Doctor. You know I really was going to sell him to the highest bidder, once I put the offer out there it became a very popular idea, he's so lovely all long and lean. Skin like alabaster, and that mouth! Jesus! Can you imagine those lips wrapped around your cock?! Well of course you can. But sadly it's that same lovely mouth of his that changed my mind. He really is an asshole. Which does make the whole torture thing more enjoyable." DaVallon turned to leave. "You know he said you would come for him. Too bad it's to die."

John just glared at the man unable to form words. He was shaking, his rage was so great.

"Let me see him." The muscle in Johns jaw worked frantically.

"In due course. For now just let your mind wonder."

John could hear Sherlock from his cell gasping for breath and coughing fitfully. The water boarding had been going on for a good hour now and all John could do was listen and pace back and forth. Anger boiled in him, but nothing could have readied him for what came next. The lights flickered and the unmistakable sound of electricity cracked the air. John panicked grabbed the bars and screamed. "Nooooooo! Sherlock!" Over and over, until there was nothing. John was past rage, he was in actual pain having to listen to Sherlock scream his name in agony and desperation, pleading his name softly in the aftermath, only to have it ripped from him moments later in the grips of suffering. John kneeled on the floor his head resting on the bars his whole body shaking. A very foolish man came up to the bars and bent down to verbally torment John. When John raised his head to look up at the man the capture knew he had made a grave mistake, the look in Johns eyes was maniacal and dark, accompanied by just a hint of a smile. His arm shot through the bars as he grabbed the man by the back of the neck slamming his head on the steel. John retrieved the mans gun and his keys, checked the clip and opened the cell. John peeked around the corner and saw two armed men. The hallway was narrow and John thought briefly that he could almost shoot both men at once. He came around the corner and fired twice. Bodies dropped. There was a commotion in the next room and Sherlock's voice cried out.

"JOHN!"

"On my way Love."

Three man stood in the room where Sherlock was chained. John fired the L9A1 in such rapid secession that the first man hadn't hit the floor by the time the third one was dead. Sugerical precision.

DaVallon, stood behind Sherlock, his arm wrapped around his throat with a crude electrical wire in his hand.

"Let Him Go. I won't ask again."

"If you take another step, I'll shove this wire down his throat."

"I don't need another step." John leveled his weapon and placed a bullet perfectly between DaVallon's eyes.

On the flight back Sherlock rested. John insisted. On the ride to Barker St. they sat quietly, heads leaning together. John followed Sherlock up the seventeen steps and was grabbed and pressed up against the wall as soon as he hit the landing. The kiss was an affirmation of life. Sherlock needed to feel his breath mixed with Johns their heat steeping into each other he pushed into Johns body feeling the growing length of Johns cock between too much fabric he pushed his hips up when he felt John grab his bottom and grind into him. Sherlock braced himself with one hand on the wall behind them and the other gripped Johns bicep, his head dropped to Johns neck where he sucked a deep purple bruise into his skin, all the while rutting harder not caring for decency only needing. Needing this that was only between he and John. John held him tight and worked their hips in rhythm, he felt Sherlock jurk and shutter, he bit down violently on Johns shoulder whole body rigid and suddenly slack. John held him up as his vision began to clear. Damp curls cling to his forehead, cheeks a deep blush. Sherlock looked down between them at the wet front of his trousers, and smiled weakly.

"Sorry. That...just kind of...happened." John kissed him softly smoothed back his hair and grabbed his cock.

"Never apologize for this. Never. I'm yours. Do whatever you want."

"I want you naked, and I think I'd like to explore." The devil in his eyes as they moved toward Sherlock's room. "And John?"

"Yes Love?"

"Let's never go back to Russia."

"Agreed."


End file.
